Sunday, October 2, 2011

Poem: A Pointed Tale

 A Pointed Tale

Her hat is quite pointed,
Her nose pointed too,
Her shiny black shoes
Have a pointy tip too,

Her elbows are pointed,
Her ears are as well,
So many sharp points
To this tale that I tell,

Her words and her fingers
Are pointed at me,
When she speaks
I just quiver
And shake in my knees:

I’m mean and I’m nasty,
I’m a witch (you were right),
Don’t point back at me,
Not on Halloween night.

I’ll point my black broom
Then zip through the night,
I’ll brew you some trouble
Before the first light.

So that is the point
Of this pointed short tale,
Don’t point at mean witches;
The tale won’t end well
For you.

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